The Devil's Arithmetic
by Mage of Dragons
Summary: Postanimemovie. When Ed discovers a page from Alfons' journal, he thinks he might just have found a way to go home. But, when Equivalent Exchange is involved, things never go exactly as planned. Rated T for some language.
1. Prologue

**A/N: Hey, It's me. MoD. So, here is a new chapter story I've written. It's definitely never been done before; no one else would think as crazily as I do. But the twists won't come until the next few chapters. I think it has more promise than RoL... Anyway, this is set after CoS. The story is inspired by a Jane Yolen book of the same name. Anyway, hope you enjoy.

* * *

The Devil's Arithmetic- Prologue**

* * *

"What?" Edward Elric whispered to himself, staring in disbelief at the paper in front of him, which was covered in mathematical equations, variables, and Greek letters. A few words in German stood out on the page; a few especially stood out to Ed; "other world," "alchemy," "uranium bomb," and "Huskisson."

"I don't believe this…could it be true?" Ed whispered again, staring at the page filled with the musings of Alfons Heidrich. "Al!" He shouted, his voice cracking, "Come here! You need to see this!"

It had been over a year since they had been stuck in this world, over a year since Alfons had died, but only now had they gotten to sifting through their friend's belongings. Al had settled perfectly into this world, but Ed could not accept it. He had been fine with resigning himself to this world, but he had never wanted it for his younger brother. In their years together, Ed had already taken so much from him; how could he take his home, his friends, his family away now?

Ed had never given up on leaving this world, at least for his brother. Still, he had not made much progress, even after a year. Still, if Alfons' calculations, his theories were true… he allowed himself a tiny bit of hope. Maybe they could return after all.

Ed snapped out of his reverie as he heard heavy footsteps pounding up the stairs. Al's head peeked around the doorframe, and stepped into the room as Ed motioned to him. "What is it?" he asked, his voice curious.

"Al. Just look at this for a moment." He thrust the paper towards his brother, watching as the younger boy's eyes flicked over the page, once, then a second time. When Al looked up at him again, his eyes were filled with confusion--and hope.

"Brother? Is that true?"

Ed nodded slowly. "I think so. It makes sense… I have to check the equations, but the theory is sound."

"But where…where did it come from?"

"Alfons." Ed said simply. "All this time, he really _did _want to help get me home. And if everything on that paper works out, we could use the Uranium Bomb to get us home…within a week."

* * *

**_A/N: I know, it's short and very generic. But you'll see... this is just the prologue! Things get a lot...twistier after this!_**

**_As always feedback is greatly appreciated!_**


	2. Chapter 1

**_A/N: Okay, I admit, I never intended chapters to be this short. But that's just the way it worked out...everything was originally from Ed's POV, but sometimes, Al just calls to me..._**

**_Anyways, I have a couple more chapters written, so you can expect pretty quick updates (at least this weekend)_**

**

* * *

The Devil's Arithmetic- Chapter 1**

* * *

It was almost done. Al looked down in wonder at the device before him; Ed had thrown himself into its creation, and, true to his word, the machine had been built in less than a week. He and his brother had checked and rechecked the equations, making sure that everything was perfect. The Uranium Bomb, which they had stolen from the Thule Society after its collapse, lay in the center of the room, connected to Ed's machine through a series of wires and tubes.

They had retrieved the bomb almost six months ago, but never found a way to destroy it, even after they had closed the Gate to their own world. And, even though he had wanted to return, Al had helped his brother to destroy the portal. Because Ed was right; the two worlds could not be allowed to mix.

Now, he was glad that they had not been able to destroy the bomb; the energy it produced would fuel their way home; and, in the process, drain the bomb of any destructive energy. He didn't understand everything about the process; Ed, who had studied rocketry with Dr. Obert and Alfonse, knew more about it than he did. Still, from what Ed told him, Alfons' journal had been the plan for a machine which could take the energy from the radioactive uranium, and use it to create a temporary…rip of sorts between the two "parallel universes." The genius behind it was that the "rip" would close as soon as the bomb expended itself, and that would happen in a matter of moments.

He still could not believe how close they were to actually going home. Ed had set the departure date for that afternoon. It would be exactly a week from the day they had found Alfons' journal. He knew that they were rushing their efforts, but this time, everything felt right. Alfons' equations were sound; they had checked them hundreds of times. They were older now, and smarter, and Alphonse felt that nothing could go wrong this time. There was no nervousness or doubt fluttering in the pit of his stomach, no "feeling" to warn him away from their endeavor. And if Ed felt anything, he certainly didn't show it. He had thrown himself into the work with the most enthusiasm Al had ever seen.

After all, what could happen? There was no Alchemy in Alfons' method, no Equivalent Exchange to interfere with their plans, right?

If only Alphonse knew how wrong he was…

* * *

**_A/N: Oh, the foreshadowing!! The suspense!! Now you know you want to review, don't you?_**


	3. Chapter 2

**_A/N: Okay, here it is. Chapter three. The beginning has turned out very differently than I intended. I wonder how much my original plans for the story will change as I write..._**

**_Anyway, to those who remarked on the brevity of the chapers: Yep. You're right. The chapters are really short. But a) I am a notoriously short chapter-writer, and b) I am purposely not combining chapters to create more suspense. At around chapter 6 or so, I think they should start to get longer. Right now, I don't know how long this will be, but I'm planning on making this the first chapter fic I've ever finished._**

* * *

Everything was set. He had checked all the equations, explored every possibility of something going wrong. Nagging fears still ate at him; how could they not? The last time had had tried something this momentous, his brother had lost his body. But he _needed _to do this. Al needed to go home. _He _may have been okay living like this, alone in a foreign world, but Alphonse needed to be home. He needed a family, needed Pinako and Winry and Elysia and Den and everyone back at Central. And _especially _Winry. Ed had heard his brother call her name out in his sleep on more than several occasions, and he knew how much the young automail mechanic meant to his younger brother.

When he had made the decision to return to Earth, to Alfons' world, Al had tried to use Winry as a reason for him to stay. Ed wondered now if that was only because she was always on his little brother's mind; it was clear to Ed how his brother felt about their childhood friend. Ed had left willingly because he knew that Winry was strong, and that, even if he wasn't there, that Al and Winry would have each other to rely on. But Al just _had _to throw a wrench into his plan. Now, Ed wouldn't rest until his brother was back home and safe.

"You all set, Al?" Ed asked quietly. He chose his words carefully; he may not be superstitious, but he did not want to bring back memories of that terrible night eight years ago.

"Yeah, I'm ready," his younger brother replied thoughtfully, "do you think we've forgotten anything?"

"I don't think so. Let's see, we've given everything important to Noah, sold everything else. We left the money with a note for Gracia. We can't take anything with us; I don't think we have anything else to do."

"Okay," Al said, "let's get started, then." Excitement was evident in his voice.

Ed walked carefully over to where the device, and the bomb, was standing. He had drawn a circle in chalk around them in a ten-foot radius; he stepped over the carefully drawn line, and put his hand on the lever. "Al, you need to get inside the circle, as close to the center as you can get. When I pull the lever, the device will create the rip, but, from what I've measured, it won't extend past the edges of that circle. And the pull will be strongest in the middle."

Al nodded in affirmation, and stepped carefully over the chalk line, walking as close to his brother as he could.

"Ready?" Ed asked again. He knew that they had already gone over this; he'd asked 'Are you sure, Al?' countless times this week, but how could he not? He would not be responsible for losing his brother this time.

Al laughed. "Yes, I'm ready! Let's go!" His voice was humorously impatient. Ed felt a stab of guilt. If Al was that eager to go home, he could have never been happy here.

Never taking his eyes off of his brother's face, he put his hand on the lever, resting it there for a moment, still giving Alphonse time to object if he wasn't completely sure. But Al shot him a look that clearly said, '_Get on with it,' _and so, Ed drew in a deep breath, and yanked down on the lever…

* * *

**_A/N: I know, I'm going to kill all of my wonderful readers with the suspense. I may post another chapter tonight; I can't tomorrow, because I'm going to New York to run in the Nike Cross Country Nationals. At least, the car ride is long enough that I might get some writing done._**


	4. Chapter 3

**_A/N: This chapter is terrible short. I am aware of that. But I have written the next chapter, and it is actually of a decent length!! (I think.) So I promise I will update quickly, and save you from the never-ending cliffies.__

* * *

_ **

The Devil's Arithmetic- Chapter 3 

The machine roared to life, making a deafening noise. Alphonse wanted to cover his ears, but found he couldn't: an invisible force was dragging him downwards, towards the floor, but when he looked down, the floor was gone, instead replaced by a dark chasm.

"Bro--" he started to say, but the device gave a particularly vicious roar, and he was spinning, spinning and falling through the infinite blackness. He did not know how long he had been falling, but suddenly, he hit something that felt relatively solid. Opening his eyes, he saw that there was nothing around him, only a dim yellow haze at the edge of his vision.

He didn't know how it happened, but suddenly, his brother was beside him. He looked relieved as he whispered, "Oh, good, Al. You're okay." Al closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, trying to orient himself with his surroundings.

He opened his eyes again, and that was when everything started to go wrong.


	5. Chapter 4

**_A/N: I guess this chapter just looks longer. To me, it seeems like it's really long, but it's only about 400 words. Maybe its just because this chapter was so intese, to write and read. Or maybe I just write REALLY big when I write things out by hand. Anyway, this is the last of the chapters that will be easy for me to write, because after this, things just get insane. Anyway, hope you enjoy._**

* * *

It seemed as if everything would be quiet for a moment, when, suddenly, a huge black doorway sprung from the darkness they were standing on.

"The Gate," Ed whispered. His eyebrows were knit together in confusion, his golden eyes unfocused in thought. That was the last Alphonse saw of his older brother, before the Gate opened with a sickening screech, and countless black hands shot out from the portal. They flew directly towards Ed, enveloping him.

Al was frozen in shock, unable to move for several long moments, but as the hands dragged Ed closer towards the Gate, he broke out of his stupor.

"Brother!" he yelled, running towards Ed's retreating figure. He was almost there--he could almost reach Ed's hand--but when he was close enough, his brother pushed his hands away.

"No!" Ed shouted desperately, a crazed look on his face as the hands wrapped farther up his body, dragging him slowly towards the Gate.

"Brother!" Al called in confusion.

"No, Al! No. You have to get home. Go!" His golden eyes were wide and pleading, and in that moment, Al realized one thing:

Ed had known that this might happen. He had known, but he had still chosen to go through with their plan.

Ed was doing all of this just to get him home.

"Brother, why?" he asked, close to tears. How many times had he told Ed that he didn't care what happened, or where they were, as long as they were together?

Ed's voice cracked as he spoke. "Because-- Winry needs you. And you need her. You need to be home. That's where you belong. And…" he swallowed, struggling with the words and himself for a moment, as the hands pulled him into the Gate. He was almost at the threshold, now. "Because-- you don't need to pay any more. You've had to suffer, far more than I did. And I've already hurt you too much…I'm sorry, Al. I'm so, so sorry. I lo--" but his words were cut off as the Gate shut, separating the two brothers with infinite space.

Tears were coursing down Al's cheeks. The thought was still running through his head. Why had Ed done all of this for him?

"Brother! Ed! Edwaaaaaard!" Al called after his brother. When there was no reply, he sank to his knees. He couldn't be gone. He couldn't. Not again.

But then, his thoughts were cut off as, once again, he was falling and spinning into the unending blackness.

* * *

**_A/N: I have to admit, this is the last time you'll be seeing Al for a pretty long while...I'm so mean, aren't I? But things will get interesting after this. Anyway, I hope you liked it. And if you did (or even if you didn't) I'd love it if you reviewed._**


	6. Chapter 5

**_A/N: So, I have to voice another apology to my readers, whether you've been reading this, or Sum of the Parts, or both. But I have to say that this past week definitely justified by decision to put SotP on hiatus. I've had absolutely no free time at all, and I got about half as much sleep as I should have. And I still haven't had the time to answer reviews, though I will try to tonight. Anyway, here is an extra-long chapter to make up for everything I've put you all through. Enjoy!

* * *

_**

Ed froze as the black hands dragged him inside the closing Gate. Repressed memories suddenly burned to the front of his mind, flooding him, and, all at once, he was back on that terrible night. He was twelve years old, and the hands were clawing at his flesh, ripping and burning his skin inside that unending darkness, and everything had gone so wrong…his mother… and Al. Al! Al was gone! Where was his little brother, oh, it was all his fault, everything had gone so wrong…I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry. Terrible terrible everything is terrible and wrong and it _hurts _so badly. Why? Why was this happening? He had only wanted her back…

He was locked inside his past; terrorized by memories of an event that had haunted his life everyday since then. Inside this illusion, he failed to notice that, this time, the hands were not clawing at his flesh, only gripping with s cold, oily touch as he slid through that oppressing blackness. Through his frightened stupor, he was barely able to perceive a feeling as though the whole universe was spinning and sliding around him as he fell. Suddenly, a flash of images began to assault him once again, cramming themselves inside his mind.

Ed tried to shut his eyes against the pictures, but they were seared into his brain as well as his eyes. His mind reeled, unable to push out a thought against the raging torrent of visions. The Truth assaulted him, the images senseless and unrelated, jumbled together as they streamed past his consciousness. Slowly, though, a pattern began to emerge, and he realized that the visions had begun to gravitate towards a certain series of events, a certain time period.

There was-- Ishbal, a view of the land as if he were floating above the streets. He gasped as he recognized figures-- Marta, Law, and Dorochet, and a pack of others, moving silently and unseen through the alleys, killing any figure who stumbled upon them. This must have been Marta's strike team, the one she had told Al about; the attack that had started the terrible Ishbal war.

Thousands of soldiers in blue; fighting, screaming, dieing. Senseless violence ad killing that lasted for five years, military brutality and technology against the Ishballans' guerilla warfare and primitive weapons.

Then-- Fuehrer King Bradley at his desk in Central, speaking gravely to Basque Gran as he signed papers authorizing the use of State Alchemists, equipped with prototypes of the Philosopher's Stone.

He was at the battlefield once more, hovering in and above the front lines. Screams rent the air, chorusing with the staccato of gunshots and the pounding rhythm or explosions; rocks, and buildings shattering.

There, scattered across the battlefield, were more faces he knew. They looked terrified and oddly blank, as if their minds had shut down. They were unaware of the blood, sweat, and dirt that covered their bodies as their crazed eyes scanned the battle before them. They looked younger, of course, Ed noted. The state Alchemists were sent in more than five years before he had met most of them.

There was Basque Gran again, and Kimbley, and farther away was Armstrong. And, in the center of the battle was Roy Mustang, looking especially young and frightened and horrified as he extinguished lives in small bursts of flame. Riza Hawkeye, looking very much the same, crouched at his side, firing off rounds faster than Ed's eyes could follow, but he hardly noticed her. Ed's eyes were plastered on the man he had known so long as the "Bastard Colonel;" somehow, now, the man looked so much more human than he ever had before.

His eyes were torn off the man's face as more and more battle scenes flashed before his eyes, the terrain changing, but the deaths, the screams, the fear, the terrible and violent senselessness of it all still remained the same.

With the same flickering, lightening-like speed, the images reversed before Ed's eyes, playing backwards in the same pattern. They sped up, faster and faster, and he felt himself once again falling, though he didn't know where or how. From the inky depths, a terrible voice rang out, searing his ears. It sounded all at once like a hurricane raging, and a pack of wolves howling, and had the same, terrible quality of the sounds of war he had just heard.

"_Edward Elric, it is your time to pay…"_


	7. Chapter 6

_**A/N: So this chapter is longer (finally). For reals, this time. Anyway, the reason it took so long is beacause I keep having ideas-- for later chapters. So I have a middle chapter as well as the ending already written. This story is not going to be epically long-- probably about fifteen chapters. Anway, see the end for another author's note. And enjoy!

* * *

**_

_He was inside the Gate, and Al was slowly fading from view, though this time, the dark hands were grabbing at his own flesh, not his brother's. They wrapped around his chest, his neck, his mouth, suffocating him until--_

Ed awoke with a start as he hit the floor. The ghost of a scream was on his lips, but, somehow, he had managed to fall out of bed before making a sound. His dreams usually happened like that.

His right arm smarted from where he had hit the floor, and, still half-awake, he rubbed it absently, still caught up in the terror of the dream. His pulse raced slightly, and he struggled to free himself from the images that always seemed so vivid.

His left hand halted abruptly, halfway through rubbing his other arm. Something was-- he pushed back his sleeve. Instead of the cold gleam of automail, there was an arm. A real, flesh-and-blood arm. His left hand shook as he examined the limb. It was real. Feeling through his pants to his left leg, he found that it was the same. But how? Why?

Suddenly, the images flooded back at him as his memory returned.

Alfons' journal. The machine. The Gate. And Al. It had not been a scream hanging on his lips. It had been his brother's name.

_Edward Elric, it is your turn to pay;_ that's what the Gate had said. Ed had thought that it meant with his life. He had guessed as much, that there would still be a price to get Al home, a price to pay after all the terrible things he had done. He would have, he _did _give his life willingly.

So why was he here? And where was he? The room looked familiar enough not to have startled him when he woke. But where did he remember this place from?

Carefully, he resurveyed his surroundings, looking for any clue to where he was or why he was there. Bare white walls, small, thick-paned windows. One cheap wooden bed and a matching dresser. It was all so familiar. But then, memories sprang back to life as he caught sight of the crest carved into the top of the doorframe. The crest of the Amestrian Military.

He was in a military apartment, the one called "the barracks" by the soldiers he knew. This room was almost exactly like the one he and Al had called "home base," (never _home,_) the rest stop they used between missions.

So why was he here, of all places? Al was supposed to have been sent home, not him.

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud knock on the door. He stood slowly, feeling the muscles strain in his 'new' left leg. How had this happened? Where had his automail gone? Was Al okay?

The knocking persisted. He groaned, running his fingers through his bangs. The sound was already giving him a headache. If this was some sort of dream then why- - shock made his thoughts stop short.

From the corner of his vision, he saw that the hair that he was touching was brown, not blonde.

His mind couldn't comprehend it. He dropped the strands of hair between his fingers, and walked numbly to the dresser, where a mirror hung against the wall. He peered at his reflection, blinking, praying that it had just been a trick of the light.

There were his same eyes, large and golden, the same chin and face… all underneath a shock of nut-brown hair, tied back in a ponytail, long bangs framing his face.

His hands gripped the wooden dresser tightly, trying in vain to keep his whole body from shaking. He felt splinters bite into his palms from the unfinished wood, but he ignored the. His head spun.

This was all too strange. Science could explain everything. So where was the logic behind this? He had shared a body with another soul before. This was not the same. At the same time, this was not _his _body. What was going on? What had the Gate done/

The knocking on the door did not cease. Now, muffled shouts could be heard from beyond the door. "Lieutenant Daland! Lieutenant, are you okay in there? Lieutenant Daland! William! Will, open up- -"

Ed strode quickly to the door, to tell whoever out there to stop bothering him. He flung the door open. "There's no Will- - "

"Will! Lieutenant!" The man outside the door was only a few inches taller than Ed, with curly brain hair and mischievous green eyes. "You're okay! The medic said that you would be fine, but I still wanted to check up on you."

Ed blinked. Twice, for good measure. Did he know this man? "What?" he was incredulously.

"You don't remember? The medic said you wouldn't, but still, to not remember something like that… I'm really sorry, by the way." He said jovially.

The stress of the situation was too much for Ed. Why was everything so confusing? What had he done with that machine? "What. Happened." He growled quietly.

The other man's face fell quickly, and he rubbed the back of his neck apologetically. "Oh. Yeah. Sorry." His green eyes were dark. "Well, to put things short, that oaf, Wallace, he thought it would make a funny joke if he messed with the transmutation circle that the Earthquake Alchemist, Evan Schultz, was panning to try out on the parade grounds today. It was supposed to be a way to make better trenches, faster. You know, because we're going to be deployed so soon… Anyway, instead of trenches, we got an explosion. Schultz was killed, along with three other soldiers. Wallace got off without a scratch, but, about thirty other soldiers got hit indirectly with debris. You were one of the hardest hit. We got a doctor from Xing passing through these parts, and he managed to do some sort of alchemy on you, but, still… you've been unconscious for over a week. They moved you back in here when it seemed like you were about to wake up."

Ed listened to the story, feeling detached from the situation. His muscles were locked in an icy grip. He could barely bring himself to listen to the story. An explosion… and an unfamiliar alchemist… this man wasn't talking about him. He, Edward Elric, had been in Germany up until a few minutes ago.

Something the man said sparked him out of his reverie. "We're…going to be deployed? Where?"

The man grimaced. "I know that you took a hard hit, and that doctor from Xing said that you might lose _all _of your memory, but still, _William…_" he breathed softly, then shook his head. "I guess you're not really Will anymore, at least not the Will _I _knew." It was more to himself than Ed. "We're being deployed to Ishbal in three weeks. They're sending out all of the State Alchemists and their vanguards."

"Ishbal…" Ed whispered to himself. Another war? But how?

He looked up into the other man's eyes. "What's your name?" he asked critically.

The green eyes flashed with an infinite amount of sorrow, causing Ed to wonder just how well this solider had known him…William…before.

"Daniel. Sergeant Daniel Kincaide" the man, Daniel, replied, snapping into military conformity to hide his sadness and shock.

"Sergeant Kincaide…Daniel…" Ed said, feeling the man's name in his mouth like an unfamiliar taste, hoping that his connection with the man would soften the strangeness of the question. "What's the date today?"

Daniel's face scrunched in concentration for a moment, before answering, "November 6, 1905"

_1905… _Without realizing it, Ed's muscles collapsed, and he sunk to the floor, oblivious to Daniel's worried shout.

It was 1905… The last time he had been in Amestris, he had been eighteen years old. It had been 1917. And he had spent another year in Germany. And yet here he was, in 1905. Did that mean that… this was the past? Or was it all just a dream, sent to punish him by the Gate? Was his six-year-old self out there, somewhere? Or was he dead, and this his hell, to return to the military he loathed?

"William? Will! Are you okay? Damn it, William, say something! Shit! I gotta get you to the medic!"

Ed didn't notice as Daniel scooped him up in his arms and carried him off down the hallway. His muscles were locked and unfeeling. His mind was lost, caught in a loop of disbelief as it broke down. …_1905…1905…1905…_

It was all that filled his consciousness. The number rang out over and over again. Was it real? When would he wake up from this nightmare?

With the number 1905 still ringing in his mind, Ed slipped into a spiraling blackness.

* * *

**_A/N: Okay, now that intense scene is over with, I have a few things to say (about the story in general) To NaginiFay: I'm sorry that I never answered your question about the pair, but I thought I'd announce it to everyone. Answer:...it's a mystery. I'm purposely not revealing it. So I'll just say that you could be right, or you could be wrong. _**

**_Also, if anyone is interested, I'm looking for a beta for this story. I have the plot all planned out, but I just need someone who can read over the chapters for me, check to see if everything makes sense, and help me with technical things... like the timeline and dates of this story, which are currenly giving me hell. I spent about an hour planning it out, and I think I still got things wrong. Especially because I was using wikipedia as a source, and there are discrepancies time-wise between the anime and the manga (which I've never read all of, but I pretty much know what happens, and I'm using some of it as a source.) Anyway, if anyone's interested, just pop me a line in a review, or pm me. Thanxx_**

**_MoD._**


	8. Chapter 7

**_A/N: I know, it's been insufferably long since I last updated. And I really apologise, since most of this chapter has been written for a while. I just didn't know where I was going with it. So, instead, I decided to break it off into a shorter chapter than I intended, but I promise there will be more soon!_**

* * *

"He should be fine as soon as he wakes up," the medic explained to Daniel slowly, "it was probably just a combination of shock and the stress of alchemic healing on his body. We'll do a few more tests when he's up, but he should be fine."

Daniel shot her a skeptical look, and watched as the woman's eyes traced a path between Will and himself; giving him one last odd stare, she left.

As soon as her footsteps ceased to echo through the halls, Daniel sunk down on the bed, with his head in his hands. "William," he whispered softly, "How could this happen? What do I do now?"

His eyes carefully traced the lines of the other man's face, following his cheekbones, his eyelids, the curve of his mouth. He reached out to stroke Will's shoulder, but stopped, his fingertips centimeters from the sleeping man's form. He _needed _Will, needed to touch him, to reassure himself that Will was real, that he was okay.

But did Will really need him now? If Will couldn't remember a thing, what was there between them?

Maybe he should pretend that none of it had happened. They would probably both be better off.

The problem was that he didn't know if he could. Especially when he wanted so desperately to remember every moment they had shared between them.

* * *

Ed woke up slowly, and this time the memories came back almost instantly. But what did it all mean? What had happened? He kept his eyes closed; carefully keeping still as he attempted to understand everything that happened.

His equations had been perfect; he and Al had checked them over countless times. Fearing that word of his endeavors could leak to the remnants of Thule or one of the other organizations out to get him, he had chosen not to show his equations to anyone else, even though he desperately wanted to check them with at least one of the professors at the University. But he couldn't. He couldn't risk screwing things up, not on his one good lead. So Al's opinions had to suffice.

Not that he minded, really-- Al was just as smart as he was, smarter at some things. But still, there had been the risk…it had almost killed him. But he had to do it. For Al.

So where had things gone wrong? He had checked and rechecked the _other _equations just as much, though he hadn't shown them to Al. Those were the ones that took Equivalent Exchange into account, the ones that calculated the alchemist cost. He had checked it again and again, and it was all the same; the price to reopen the gate would be one life. His. He hadn't told Al about it, because his brother would have never agreed, otherwise. But it was a small enough price to pay for his brother's life and happiness; especially after all he had done to him.

So why was he here? And was it really 1905? There was no scientific explanation for it; how could the Gate have sent him back in time? And why? What had the Gate mean when it said that he would pay?

But, try as he might, he couldn't reason it out. Eventually, he was forced to push those thoughts to the back of his mind, and deal with the situation before him. He tired to assemble the facts in his head; what he knew was barely anything at all. Somehow, he was William Daland, First Lieutenant. He was going to be deployed to Ishbal in a matter of weeks.

The thought hit him suddenly. He would be forced to fight- to _kill- _Ishballans. How could he do that, after everything he had learned about them, about this war that should have happened?

The thought made him sick. What in the world could possibly make him fight?

…Little did he know that he would find out soon enough.

* * *

The next day, Ed was discharged from the med ward. Brushing off Daniel's concerned pleas, he returned alone to his dorm room. His initial panic about the situation had somehow faded, leaving him simply stumbling around in a hazy dream. He wanted to figure things out; wanted desperately to solve the puzzle, but somehow, for the first time in his life, he also felt as if, maybe things couldn't be explained. And maybe, just maybe, he was better off not knowing the how and why of this situation.

It felt almost as if his scientist instincts were fading. He didn't know why, and didn't know how, but it was almost as if Ed was fading, and someone else was beginning to overshadow him—it seemed almost as if he was becoming more a part of _this _reality; that a part of him had become more _William Daland _and less _Edward Elric.

* * *

_

He did not have much more of an opportunity to think on the situation—after only two days of sitting alone in his room, pondering the situation, and wandering aimlessly through the streets, reminding himself that this was 1905, and that things were different here—he was handed an official statement in the mess. They would move out the next day.

It wasn't as hard as he expected to accept the strange equivalence that had brought him here—to the _past. _Maybe it was because of something the Gate had done to him, maybe he was just a better actor than he thought. Or maybe he was just crazy. Because only he knew how many times he had already called himself crazy, how many times he had tried to do something everyone called insane—even himself.

* * *

**_A/N: Reviews are always very welcome :)_**


End file.
